No Easy Way Out
by flashpenguin
Summary: Settled into a comfortable life in the suburbs with his wife and daughter, John Reese has left the vigilante life behind...until a chance moment when the past crosses his path with revenge on its mind. With his family's lives on the line, will he sit back and let the law do its job, or will he risk it all, knowing that once he crosses the line, there is no easy way out? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_So, story 200 is about to begin. Here is the synopsis: Finally settled in to a comfortable life in the suburbs, John Reese has left his vigilante life behind. Settled in as John Warren with a cushy office job, a loving wife, and an adorable daughter, there isn't much more he can want out of life...until the past comes back to haunt. A chance crossing of paths, three men with revenge on their minds have beaten the system and now want some payback. With nothing to stop them, they will hit hard and fast, but with his family's lives at stake, will John Warren stand back and let the law do its job? Or will The Man In The Suit take on the bad guys in a winner takes all where the stakes are high and the cost could be insurmountable? No matter what he chooses, he's about to discover there is no easy way out._

 _ **Song prompt: "No Easy Way Out" by Robert Tepper (from Rocky IV)**_

* * *

 **No Easy Way Out**

 _ **City of New York Department of Correction, Rikers Island, New York City.**_

The heat of the September sun bounced off the concrete of the prison rec yard to make the unbearable heat even more so. Stripped down to their waist of the oppressive prison issued uniform tops, men gathered to play basketball. Not your typical game, it was more of an "S to Life" - a free for all, no rules. You played to win, or you didn't play at all.

Those not participating tried to cool down by hiding in the little shade offered by the brick walls or they did their own version of calisthenics with the cheap, improvised equipment. But it was the one person off in the corner who seemed to be more content with isolation that joining the groups.

Leaning his bald head against the cool brick, Jarek Koska watched with feigned interest. Seven years in hell and he was chomping at the bit to get out. Sure, okay, so he'd kidnapped the son of a federal judge and had been laundering money through the backdoor of a major bank, but it wasn't as though he had really killed anyone. Maybe the worst of his his deeds hadn't been discovered, but that didn't mean he needed to be doing time.

"What's up, road dog?" asked the towhead figure approaching. He extended his fist. The gesture was returned as Koska extended his fist and bumped. Road dog was an affectionate term for close friends. Although not bosom buddies, they did have more than a couple of things in common that had drawn them to form an unlikely alliance.

"Not much. Thinking." Koska cast a sideways glance at Byron. The leader of the skinheads had somehow sealed a bond with the leader of SP-9, but neither seemed to care. They ruled the joint, and no one messed with them.

"No way to break out of this hell hole," Byron observed. "No 'Shawshank' happenin' here. Not since they replaced the silverware with sporks."

"Breaking out." Koska shook his head. "You think I'm going to get another 115?" he asked rhetorically. "I have six months left; I'm going to play nice. No need to get hit again."

"Six months... Any plans after that?"

"Heh. What do you think?"

"I'm thinking that you have revenge on the mind. Some asshole in a suit – the same one who landed my ass here. If he's even alive," Byron added with a shrug.

"Oh, he's alive. A man of that skill trying to infiltrate us... Remember how he got all cozy with Elias? I'm betting money he's on the payroll."

"Elias is gone."

"Elias is hiding out. He's in plain sight, trust me. Last I heard, he took over the Russian territory. I know who helped him." Koska spit a wad of mucus on the hot sidewalk and watched as it sizzled. He had no love for the bastard son of a mafia don. As far as he was concerned, Elias should have been taken out when the attack on his lieutenant went down. To his consternation, the prison had gone into lock-down to protected Elias before he was whisked away in the middle of the night.

"The race traitor," Byron supplied dryly and spit on the ground. "I remember how he seemed so intent on protecting Leon's sorry ass. Not only does he steal my money, the punk stole my dog. Titus would love to get hold of them both." He nodded toward the large, burly man doing squats with a barbell laden with weights.

"He also wants to get even with the bitch detective who put him away," Byron finished.

"The Man in The Suit and a bitch detective. Two birds and no stone." Koska fought the urge to punch the brick wall. He closed his eyes and tried to count to ten. "I'd love to get my hands on him.

"Well, the odds of the three of us getting out at the same time is rarer than being paroled early," Byron remarked. "Besides, how would we find them? Manhattan is a big place."

"Cops never stop being cops. Especially one who is by the book."

"We kill a cop, we'll be doing a 'Day and Night' for sure," Byron reminded the man. "I ain't comin' back here if I ever get out," he said with finality.

"I don't want to spend a moment longer in here than I have to." Koska stretched his neck to see if anyone had overheard the conversation. "When I get out of here, I have a plan. Involves you and Titus...if you want it. It means laying low and getting out when all is said and done. You in?"

Byron took a minute to weigh the offer and the pros and cons that went along with it. "I want it," he finally decided. The quest for revenge was greater than any consequence. "The question is when?"

The sound of a whistle reverberated around the yard. Inmates stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on the door leading out to the rec yard.

"Line up!" One of the guards commanded as reinforcements followed him and stood ready for any fracas or unruly prisoners.

Reluctant, yet curious, the prisoners fell in to form five neat rows. The silence fell heavy as they waited in the baking sun for what ever came next.

"Some of you ladies just won the lottery of a lifetime," one of the guards announced in a loud authoritative tone. Holding their questions, the inmates looked at one another as they waited for the other shoe to drop. A short man, dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, stepped forward.

"Seems between budget cuts and overpopulation of the prison system, a few of you are going to be paroled early. Don't think of it as 'good behaviour'; your sorry ass just got lucky. Damn 'Get Out Of Jail Free' card."

With deliberate hesitation, the Warden took his time scrolling down the roll call sheet and made a show of turning pages. Hell, what did he care? They still had the better part of an hour remaining of rec time, and it wasn't as though anyone was going to melt in the sun. He glanced up at the faces and tried to hide his disgust. As far as he was concerned, there was no reason to release anyone – there was plenty of room. But the call was out of his hands, and he had to do as the powers that be directed, or be out of a job.

"When you hear your name, step forward," the warden commanded. "You'll be escorted to your cell to collect your personal belongings, and then sent for processing out. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the group responded in unison.

"The first name on the list..."


	2. Chapter 2

_As I write these chapters, I'm watching the story play out slowly in my head. And from what I'm seeing, it's going to be pretty dark – not vulgar, but it's going to touch on some sensitive issues that is going to make several characters do some soul searching. Revenge isn't pretty, and neither is hate. But love is the one thing that conquers all._

* * *

 **No Easy Way Out**

 _ **Three weeks later...**_

Morning sunlight streamed thru the bedroom window to land on Joss Carter-Warren's face. Her sleep interrupted, she groaned and buried her face deeper in the pillow. It was Saturday, and after the long week at work, she deserved to sleep in, she reasoned and willed herself back into unconsciousness. Until the foot began caressing her leg.

"Morning," the low baritone voice thick with sleep, greeted her. The strong arm around her waist tightened slightly to pull her flush against him.

Joss smiled. "Morning. What are you doing awake?" she asked and arched against her husband's warm body as his hand cupped her breast and kneaded it gently.

"Making up for lost time," he murmured in her ear. He pressed his body against hers and felt his blood run hot.

"Mmmm...lost time?" Joss tried to make sense of the comment. "What do you mean?"

"It's been hours since I made love to you."

"Last night wasn't enough?"

"Had to take time to sleep," he reasoned and trailed kisses along Joss' naked shoulder. He darted his tongue out to taste her skin. Closing his eyes he breathed in the unique scent of last night's lovemaking wrapped in the soft warmth of sleep, with just a faint trace of jasmine to tickle his senses.

"Hmmm?" Joss replied out of curiosity. Her fingers slid thru John's hair and relished in the short, silky strands against her skin.

"I have to make it up to you." His lips trailed kisses over her shoulder and down the side of her back. Joss closed her eyes and let him lead her where he would. Her heart beat fast with the emotions he was creating inside of her.

John slid down the side of Joss' body. Slowly he took his time loving her with his mouth and fingers so not an inch went untouched. Nuzzling his cheek over the gentle slope of her hip and took pleasure as she jerked back as his whiskers tickled her sensitive skin. So he did it again.

"John..." Joss breathed.

He kissed the area. "What? You don't like it?" he teased.

"It tickles."

"Tickles? How about if I do this?" He cupped her breast gently before taking the nipple between his forefinger and thumb, squeezing gently until it was pebble hard. "Better?"

"Ohhhh..."

"Or what if I do this?" he asked and ran his fingers over her hip, across her flat stomach, and down her thigh. Joss moaned in ecstasy and pushed her hips against John to seek the release she desperately needed.

Stroking her lightly, he set the rhythm for her to follow. He didn't care about his release or reaching that peak; no, it was all about her and making her feel good. And if her moans and the way she was calling his name was any indicator, he was succeeding.

"John. John. John," Joss chanted softly although he was pushing her over the edge. She wanted to scream as the orgasm began to slowly crescendo and threatened to decimate her. But she was also cognizant of the other person in the house, so she buried her face in the fat, full pillow and let loose.

Pulling her close, John touched her intimately with one hand – letting his fingers tease in little circles until Joss was panting and begging for more – while the other guided him where he needed to be to be one with her. Testing her resistance, he found none. With the gentle thrust of his hips, he buried himself deep.

"Oh," he breathed as he rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes.

"I love it when you wake me up," Joss whispered loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough not to ruin the moment.

"You do?"

"Mmmm hmm. I like the way you make love to me. Touching me...kissing me...oh!"

"Like this?" he asked and showed her with his fingers and lips what he meant. "Or like this?" He took her lips with his and kissed her deep as he set the pace. Slow and deliberate, he took his time to bring her to completion in the quietest but thorough of ways. All the while his CIA trained ears listened for any activity in the hall.

No sound of small feet on the hardwood floor, so he quickened the thrusts. Deep, fast, long strokes. He could feel her body tense up by the quick breaths and the nails sliding across the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets.

"That's it," he encouraged as his own body begged for release. "Oh, Joss, I love you," he groaned in her ear.

Just then a knock sounded on the door.

John put a finger over Joss' lips. "Shhh..." He tried to focus as the moment was interrupted.

The knock sounded again.

"Mommy?" a small voice called out from the other side. "Mommy, are you awake?"

Discombobulated, Joss tried to clear her head and find her center. As the door knob turned, she pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness.

"Mommy?" The five year old walked innocently into the room, oblivious to what she had just interrupted.

"Jessica Grace, what are you doing in my room?" Joss reprimanded in a voice that sounded gravelly from sleep and sex.

"I knocked," the little girl apologized. "Are you awake?"

Joss pushed the hair out of her face. "I am now. What's wrong?" Her voice went from annoyed to concerned.

Jessica Grace lifted her shoulders and let them drop. "There's no milk."

Joss pondered the response. "No milk? Are you sure?"

"I looked. None. I want cereal. I'm hungry."

"Dad?" Joss turned her head and looked at John.

"I forgot to pick some up on my way home last night, Jessie. I'm sorry," he apologized. "How about I get up and make you pancakes," he offered the olive branch.

Jessie's blue eyes widened with delight. "With chocolate chips?" She clapped her hands happily.

"And strawberries," he added. "Why don't you let Mommy and me finish waking up? And while you're at it, let Bear out, okay?"

"Okay!" Jessica Grace turned around.

"Then turn on the TV and watch cartoons," he called out to the small figure running out of the room.

"Close the door!" Joss also called out. A moment later the bedroom door closed with a soft bang.

"Sorry about that," John said against Joss' shoulder. He was still buried deep inside of her, and with the way she was clenching, he was having no trouble getting aroused.

"You forgot the milk?" she rebuked him gently.

"Honest mistake. I'll head to the store and buy some today."

"You might as well pick up what we need for the party tomorrow," she suggested. "Or I could do it."

"After."

"After...what?" She repeated, her eyes darkened with desire.

"After..." The sound of the phone ringing filled the room and cut off John's response. "Damn!"

Joss blindly reached over to the night table and grabbed her phone. Looking at the screen, she took a deep breath and hit "Talk".

"Captain Carter speaking," she spoke into the phone and waited for the reply. "Wait! What? When?" Sitting up quickly, she swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. "How many? Are you sure? Injuries?" She listened and nodded. "I can be there in thirty. Keep me updated." She disconnected the call.

"Bad news?" John asked.

"Bank robbery in Washington Heights. Seems the alleged robbers have barricaded themselves inside and are making demands. Two officers have been shot."

"Do you need help?"

"I'm good. I need to go in." Joss winced. "I need coffee."

John pushed himself out of bed and stood beside her. "No. Go take a shower," he ordered. "I'll make the coffee and have it ready for you." He kissed her quickly. "You got five minutes."

Joss kissed him back. "Thank you. I'll make it up to you."

"You go make sure your guys are okay."

"See you in five." Joss hurried to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door. A few seconds later the sound of the shower could be faintly heard.

John sighed as he looked at the door and then the bed. Saturday was not off to the start he had hoped, he groused to himself as he pulled open the dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Yanking them on one leg at a time, he ran a hand over his hair and face to make himself presentable.

"Time for pancakes," he said to the empty room and pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

**No Easy Way Out**

* * *

Reese stirred the smoldering charcoal in the barbeque pit, then lowered the lid. Another hour and it would be ready to go, he thought to himself. Replacing the tongs in the holder, he looked at his watch. People would be arriving in three hours for the party, and he figured he could let Joss sleep for another couple of hours before waking her.

It had been a little past dawn when she came stumbling thru the front door, exhausted and drained. He hadn't said a word as he settled her down at the kitchen table and made her eat something. The dark circles under her eyes told all he needed to know about how the investigation had gone. Without speaking, he had led her to the bedroom and put her to bed, then proceeded to give her a back rub, despite her weak protests. Two minutes later, she was fast asleep. On the bed, near her feet, lay Bear. Old and tired, he still felt it his duty to protect Joss when she slept alone. He would give up his life in an instant if it was ever required, Reese knew, but he hoped it would never be the case.

Patting the canine on the head, Reese had let himself out of the room and closed the door to insure quiet for the pair.

Now he stood outside in the lush backyard and tried to soak in the peace and quiet, although he was chomping at the bit inside. Reaching into the cooler, he pulled out a bottle of beer. Twisting the cap off, Reese took a swig of the cold liquid.

"Hey! Guess I'm early," Taylor greeted as he walked into the backyard. In his hands he carried a dessert box. He placed it on the picnic table.

"Hi Taylor," Reese returned with a warm smile. Six years of patience, meeting half-way, and a few bumps in the road, he and his step-son were closer than he could have ever imagined. Shaking hands, the two men briefly hugged.

"Where's Mom?"

"Asleep."

"What time did she get home?" Taylor opened the cooler and pulled out a soda.

"Dawn."

He twisted the lid off. "I take it they didn't catch the guys?"

"No."

"That sucks."

"How's school?"

"Got a test on Constitutional Law coming up," Taylor groused. "Not looking forward to that. But I guess if I want to be a lawyer..."

"You could always enlist," Reese suggested.

"No. You and Mom and Dad are enough heroes for the family. I'm going to play it safe and take care of the bad guys here at home."

"Smart move."

"Speaking of moves," Taylor started and set his drink down on the picnic table, "you think you can give me a lesson or two before everyone arrives? You know, some of that kick-ass self-defense stuff you used to do?"

Reese raised his eyebrow in mock surprise. "Used to do?"

"Well, since you got domesticated, I didn't think you had much use for all the moves to kick the bad guys' asses," Taylor mocked in a teasing way.

"That's what you think?" Reese set his beer down and took a stance opposite the young man. He cracked his knuckles and felt the blood flow to his extremities in preparation of what was about to transpire.

"You're old," Taylor scoffed. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for whatever came next. He was ready, he told himself, but there was still a tiny voice of doubt niggling in the back of his brain.

"Age is just a number," Reese carefully circled his opponent and waited. Rule number one was to size up the opponent, and from what he could see, Taylor looked lean and fit, but still awkward in the ways of self defense. But the poise and stance was there, and they couldn't be underestimated.

"Who do you think you are, Rocky?" Taylor sized up the man and waited for the right moment to swing out with his right arm. A split second later, Reese blocked it, and the one that followed.

"Well, we're both southpaws," Reese said and threw his arm out toward Taylor, who blocked it effortlessly. "I see you've been practicing," he praised.

"A little. Took a class on campus," Taylor admitted. "Thought I'd learn a few things to try on you." He ducked at John's fist came toward him, and came up with a counter-punch.

"A few," Reese quipped and grabbed Taylor's wrist and brought it down and around behind Taylor's back. "But not enough."

The backdoor swung open and Jessica Grace came running out across the porch.

"Taylor! You're here!" she exclaimed happily, skipping down the steps to where her brother stood, trapped in place. She hugged his legs and looked up at him. "Where's your arm?"

"Your dad's got it."

"Why does he have your arm?" she asked. Her eyebrows knitted together in question.

"He's showing me some new moves in case I need to defend myself," Taylor replied.

"Give up?" Reese offered him an out.

Taylor tried to extract himself from the iron-like hold. "Yeah," he reluctantly admitted defeat. Bringing his arm up, he rubbed his wrist. "I almost had you," he told Reese.

"Almost."

"My turn. My turn," Jessica Grace demanded, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

"That apple didn't fall far from the tree," Taylor joked as he looked at Reese, then at his sister.

"Jessie..."

"Please, Daddy. I want to defend myself."

Reese hesitated. There was a feeling deep down in his gut that was telling him "NO!", but the logical part felt that maybe a move or two couldn't hurt.

"Okay, Jessie," he conceded. "But I want you to promise me that you will never use this on anyone at school. Promise?"

Jessica Grace nodded, her black curls bobbing. She crossed her heart. "I promise."

"Okay. Stand there," he directed. "If someone ever grabs you from behind, don't resist. Taylor, grab me."

Taylor eyed Reese warily, but did as he was told. "Like this?"

"That's good. Now watch me, Jessie. Take your elbow and hit it as hard as you can into the person's stomach." He demonstrated what he meant, but without the force he would have used had the attack been real. "Then you step on their foot, and then kick them hard in the shin. Like this." He pretended to kick Taylor.

"My turn!"

Reese stepped aside to let Jessica Grace take his place. With a careful eye, he watched as she tried to imitate his movements. "Move your elbow up a little more," he instructed his daughter. "That's better." Twice more she executed the moves well enough to make Reese smile.

"Did I do it good?" she asked.

"That elbow is a little sharp," Taylor remarked and rubbed his side for emphasis. "You're bony."

"It can come in handy," Reese replied. "Just be careful, Jessie." He looked at his watch. Another hour and the guests should be arriving.

"Daddy, show me more," Jessica Grace begged.

"Later," he said. "Right now, that's enough."

"Daddy..." she pleaded and pouted.

Reese rumpled her curls. "No." A movement caught his eye. Before he could speak, the person came up behind Jessica Grace and grabbed her in a hug. A second later, she slammed her elbow in the person's lower abdomen, before slamming her foot down and then into the shin. Just as she had been instructed.

"Shit!" Lionel Fusco exclaimed as he felt the air being knocked out of him. In pain, he used one hand to hold his groin area, and the other to rub his shin.

Turning around, Jessica Grace's eyes widened in surprise and then in horror as she realized who was behind her. "Uncle Lionel! Are you okay?"

"No," he replied honestly. Limping, he made his way over to the picnic table to sit on the bench.

"I'm sorry," Jessica Grace apologized. Her eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Supergirl; I'll live." Taking a deep breath, he tried not to wince. "You definitely got your dad's moves," he complimented. "You might want to move that elbow up a little higher, though."

Lionel looked over at Reese. "That apple didn't fall far from the tree," he quipped. Taylor tried to stifle a laugh, but his shoulders still shook.

"Taylor, would you go in and get the meat from the refrigerator?" Reese asked. He wanted to get Jessica Grace out of the moment and refocus on something else. "Take Jessie with you."

"Sure." Taylor took his sister's and walked with her to the back door.

Reese waited for the door to close before replying, "You still look a little white, Lionel. Get you something to drink?" He lifted the lid to the large cooler. "Sprite?"

"I need something a little stronger. Got any root beer?" He effortlessly caught the can tossed his way. He popped the top and took a long sip. "Ah. That hit the spot."

"Sorry about Jessie..." Reese apologized.

"No harm done. I should have known better than to sneak up behind Mini-Me. Good thing she inherited your kick ass abilities and not her mom's sharpshooting skills, or I wouldn't be sitting here." He sipped again. "Speaking of Mom, where's the Captain?"

"Asleep. She didn't get in until early this morning," Reese relayed. "Where's the case standing?"

"On the record, I can't tell you anything since it's still active."

"And off the record?"

Lionel looked around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. "Off the record...it was...these guys knew what they were doing. It was clean and precise. In. Out. Minute...minute and a half, at the most."

"How did the cop get shot?" Reese inquired.

"Going in to check his balance. He never saw it coming." Lionel shook his head in regret. "Nothing worse than a cop's funeral."

"There has to be a clue – something they left behind."

"Nothing. Clean of prints, DNA...anything that would give them away. I thought Finch had a program that could spot things like this before it happens," Lionel said sardonically, followed by a snort.

"It only works if it's premeditated. Heat of the moment and spontaneous very rarely get picked up."

"Well, it could have been spontaneous since there are three other banks in a two miles radius that are open on Saturday," Lionel surmised with a shrug.

"Did anyone recognize them?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. One average height. One taller than average. I spent most of the morning interviewing the employees and they couldn't tell me much." He mulled over the evidence. "Maybe tomorrow someone will remember something."

"Maybe."

"So...I heard you two are heading out to the cabin?" Lionel asked with a broad grin.

"Next week." Reese lifted the lid on the barbeque pit and stirred the red-glowing coals absentmindedly. It wasn't that he didn't like life in the suburbs, but he still needed to get away and find his center. "Why do you ask?"

"I have to go out of town, too. Personal business," he added quickly when Reese gave him a quizzical look. "I am seeing an old friend. And I was wondering if Lee might be able to stay here with Taylor and She-Rah."

"What about Cassie?"

Lionel shook his head sorrowfully. "Her mom is undergoing chemo treatments, and they don't think Lee should witness it."

"Smart."

"So...?"

"I'd have to run it past Joss..."

"Run what past Joss?" she asked as she stepped out on the porch.

Lionel covered his heart with his hand. "Sheesh! Between your daughter trying to disembowel me, and you sneaking up and giving me a heart attack... If I make it to retirement, I'll be lucky."

"You're not getting out of your paperwork that easy, Lionel," Joss replied and walked down the steps and over to where her husband stood. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she pulled his head down for a kiss.

Lionel cleared his throat loudly. "You do know that you have company, right?"

Joss pulled back. "I didn't forget." She looked around. "I thought you were going to bring someone."

"She's, uh, she's busy. Something came up unexpectedly," he made the excuse for his date's absence. He tried not to appear nervous, but his palms began to sweat.

"Heh. Too bad. I was hoping to meet her. Maybe some other time?"

"Maybe," Lionel agreed noncommittally. He set his drink down and stood up. "I'm going to go inside and wash up...and, uh, check for any bruises. You might want to update that homeowner's insurance policy," he said and hurried up the stairs.

Joss watched as her friend and former partner disappeared into the house. "Is it me, or did Lionel begin to act funny when I brought up his date?" she wondered aloud.

Reese shrugged indifferently. "Act 'funny', how?"

Joss thought it over. "I don't know. I wish he would find a nice woman, though." She took the bottle of beer from Reese's hand and took a swig.

Reese wrapped his arms around her waist. "You're not going to play match-maker with your lieutenant, are you?"

Joss sighed. "Yes. No. Lionel deserves to be happy," she reasoned.

"I'm sure he is." There was something suspicious about the way their mutual friend was acting, and he was sure it involved a woman. "I'll get Shaw to spy on him and find out what's going on," he promised. Then he changed the topic.

"Fusco wanted to know if Lee could stay here the weekend we go out of town. Seems Cassie has to go out of town too, and if Taylor is going to be here, Jessie will be pretty safe with two men in the house," he presented his argument.

The door opened and Taylor walked out carrying the meat platter. Jessica Grace happily bounded out behind him.

"I don't see why not, but we'll talk about it later," Joss promised and kissed Reese quickly.

"Mommy! You're awake!" Jessica Grace threw herself at Joss and hugged her tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, precious," Joss murmured and hugged her daughter back. "Were you good for Daddy?" she asked and set the girl down.

"Uh huh! He taught me some moves so I can defend myself," Jessica Grace announced proudly.

Joss' gaze swung over to her husband. "Daddy did, did he?" She seemed taken aback by the revelation.

Sharing a look, Reese and Taylor's eyes met briefly. Taylor reached into his pocket and looked at his phone. "Oh, damn...darn! I missed a call..." He dialed the number and walked off, trying to be oblivious to the storm about to begin.

Laying the steaks and burgers on the grill, Reese tried to focus on his task instead of the big brown eyes boring into him. Both of them opened their mouths to speak when they were interrupted.

"Hey, Captain!" Graham Wyler called out as he walked into the backyard. Beside him stood his wife Connie. In her hands was a large bowl covered with plastic wrap. Careful not to drop the dish, she gave a small wave with her fingers.

"We'll talk later," Joss said under her breath. Her meaning was clear and not lost on Reese. Pasting on a smile, she walked over and greeted the arriving guests.

"I'm sure we will, Joss," Reese replied quietly and focused his attention on the steaks that seemed to be laughing at him.


	4. Chapter 4

_The bad guys are planning and plotting to get their man and woman. Meanwhile, not all is well in the Warren household._

* * *

 **No Easy Way Out**

"That was easy as pie," Koska bragged and dumped the bag of money onto the table. He looked with pleasure at their ill-gotten gains.

"One step closer to getting out of this hell hole and starting again." Titus reached out and touched the money. It was almost unreal to finally have one of the things he had missed since being incarcerated. "Too bad a pig had to die," he commented without any emotion. He wasn't going to lose any sleep over it.

"Wrong place, wrong time," Koska shrugged. It made no difference to him if a cop died. As far as he was concerned, one less cop in the world was a good thing.

"Everyone wants to be a hero." Titus leaned back in the chair and lifted the front legs off the floor. "I'm surprised that guy in the suit didn't show up."

"You think he left town?"

Titus shrugged a shoulder. "If he's smart."

The door to the motel opened and Byron walked in. "I hope you guys like Chinese." He looked at the table with a wary eye. "You bitches counting the money without me?" he asked before throwing the plastic take-out bags on the table.

"Counting it. Just making sure it's there," Titus reassured his partner in crime.

"Just make sure my percentage is there when you're done." Byron reached into one of the bags and pulled out a sytrofoam box. He grabbed the plastic cutlery and sat down on the bed. "Better eat up before it gets cold," he said and dug in. It wasn't French cuisine, but it was better than the slop he had been forced to swallow for seven years. Next to dry peanut butter sandwiches and white milk or bug juice to wash it down, the meal on his lap was from a five star restaurant.

"I hate Chinese," Koska growled as he opened the lid and looked at the broccoli and beef over fried rice.

"Damn Ruskies," Bryon muttered with his mouth full. "Have a spring roll."

"I hate spring rolls."

"Then have a fucking fortune cookie." Byron threw the plastic wrapped cookie at Koska who deflected it at the last second.

"How come you went and bought meal without telling me?" Koska demanded. He reached into the furthest plastic bag and pulled out a bottle of beer. Snapping off the lid, he put the bottle to his lips and savoured the ice cold liquid.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you two decided to come back here and count the money, and I was the one sent to get us something to eat," Byron threw back and spooned rice into his mouth.

"I hate Chinese."

"Oh? You would prefer shit on a shingle instead? Maybe some _borscht_?" There was no missing the insult in the remark or the exaggerated accent.

"Better than this stuff," Koska said.

"You notice that his accent gets thicker when he gets angry?" Byron teased.

"You will notice how thick my fist is when I plow it into your face," Koska threatened.

Byron set his tray down. "You want to go at it, you Commie bastard?" He stood up. "Come on."

"Commie bastard is better than Nazi," Koska returned.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Titus stood up to his full height and stretched his arms out toward both men to halt their advancement. "Both of you need to fucking stop it right now," he warned.

"I do not have to take abuse from him," Koska raised his voice and pointed his finger at the tow-headed man.

"Abuse?!"

"Calm down, the both of you before I smash your heads together," Titus raised his voice. "Sit down and eat!" he commanded.

Eying one another, the two men considered going against the big, burly man, then reconsidered. With loud grunts, they sat down. "Now eat!"

"Should have gotten me burger instead," Koska grumbled as he lifted the lid of the container.

"Eat!" Titus commanded. "Turn on the TV," he instructed.

Byron reached for the remote and pointed it toward the console. The news came on.

 _"Police are still not releasing any details in the early morning bank robbery yesterday that left one police officer wounded and another dead," the pretty brunette read off the teleprompter. "The bank on the lower east side was robbed at gun point and an indeterminable amount of money was taken during the brazen heist. Witnesses said that two men in masks and ski jackets entered the building and ordered everyone to lie down."_

 _"They were in so fast," one woman said tearfully. "They just shot him. They just shot him," she repeated._

 _"Investigators are looking for clues. If anyone has any information, they are asked to call the NYPD hotline at -"_ Her words were cut off as Byron flipped the channel. Canned laughter filled the small room. The two men at the table looked over with surprised expressions.

"I like 'Friends'," Byron commented. "So sue me."

"Do you think they know?" Koska asked. He stirred the fried rice around. It wasn't particularly appetizing, but he didn't have many options, and his stomach was growling.

"Who gives a shit if they know?" Titus countered back. "It might bring out that bitch cop."

Koska nodded. "Ja. Don't forget that we have meeting with probation officer tomorrow," he said and bit into the spring roll. He spat it out. "Nasty."

The two other men just looked at him. It was going to be a long night.  
*****

The atmosphere in the kitchen was colder than the breeze blowing outside. Wordlessly, Reese washed out the large bowl and placed it in the dishwasher to dry. Over at the island, Joss was busy placing the leftovers in Tupperware containers and fitting them with lids. All afternoon she had pasted a smile and tried to pretend that everything was okay, but inside she was seething with an anger she couldn't put her finger on.

Stacking the plastic bowls, she carried them over to the fridge and threw them inside. With more force than necessary, she closed the door.

"I'm sorry, Joss," Reese spoke quietly from his place at the sink.

"You're sorry?" she bit out.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked and dried his hands on the dish towel.

"You could have talked it over with me first," Joss said evenly.

"It was spur of the moment, Joss," Reese said in his defense.

Joss took a deep breath, held it, and closed her eyes. Slowly she released before replying, "Spur of the moment? Jessica is only five years old, John."

Reese turned to look at her. "Exactly. She should know some basic moves to defend herself."

"I don't think so. She hurt Lionel."

"Lionel came up behind her; she was defending herself. Just as you would have," he pointed out.

"It's different."

"It's not different, Joss. She should know a little something to keep herself safe should neither one of us be there to protect her," he reasoned logically.

Joss picked at the wooden countertop. "I don't want her growing up scared."

"You think I do? It's a bad world out there, Joss, and it doesn't hurt to be observant."

"I know it's a bad world, John," she returned smartly. It was taking everything she had to keep her temper down. "I see it everyday. I was in war; I don't need to be told what's out there."

"Then it shouldn't hurt to teach her some basic moves. I was taking jujitsu when I was six," Reese revealed. He walked over to the fridge and yanked open the door. Pulling out a beer, he twisted off the lid and drank half the contents in one swallow.

"That's different. Nothing is going to happen here. We're safe," she argued.

"We're never safe."

"You're paranoid."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that there aren't bad guys out there," he defended himself.

Joss pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay. I'm not getting anywhere, so I'm not going to argue with you." She turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen, down the hall, to the bedroom. Pulling off her clothes, she threw them in the hamper.

Reese followed her into the master bedroom. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for bed," she said coldly and pulled open the dresser drawer to remove a pajama set. Bending over, she pulled on the bottoms.

"Good. Then we'll talk about this in the morning." Reese undid his belt and began to remove his jeans.

"No," Joss contradicted, "we'll _not_ talk about this in the morning." She pulled on the top.

"Joss..." Reese watched as she reached over and took the pillow from her side of the bed. "What are you doing? I thought you were getting ready for bed?"

"I'm sleeping on the couch." She opened the closet door and took down a blanket.

Reese appeared startled. "That's a new one. Usually it's the man who sleeps on the couch. May I ask why?"

Joss tossed her head back defiantly. "If you have to ask John, then I don't know what to tell you." Pushing past him, she walked out of the room to leave him staring after her.

Reese sighed. It was going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

_I always considered Lionel the voice of reason. And what he has to say to Joss only confirms what I have already know._

* * *

 **No Easy Way Out**

Two hours of looking at paperwork, files, and reports, and Joss felt as though her head was going to spin. The coffee she had made earlier had done nothing to wake her up, and now she wondered if maybe she should have called in.

The meeting with the Police Commissioner had been tense – to say the least – as she gave him the latest information regarding the bank robbery and subsequent murder of a police officer - which had been pretty much the same information she had had the day after the crime had been committed.

Resting her head against her fist, she wished there was a way she could find out what she needed to know. The families deserved to know who the criminals were, and they deserved to see the justice system work. She closed her eyes and tried to relax and find her centre.

"You look like hell," Lionel observed as he walked into the office.

Joss looked up at her lieutenant. Her lip curled in an attempt to smile. "Good afternoon to you, too, Lionel." She pushed herself back and stretched in the confined space. "Any news?"

Lionel shook his head regretfully. "Actually, it's evening. And I got none. The CI's have nothing in the way of leads. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. And they are laying low."

"I know that." Joss closed the folder. "The answers I need are the ones I don't know. It's three days tomorrow, and I need to tell the family something."

"We're working on it."

"That's not good enough, Lionel," Joss sounded almost perturbed at the non-answer.

"No need to bite my head off, Carter. My guys are working overtime on this, and as soon as they know something, you'll know something."

"I need to know it now."

Lionel's blue eyes flashed with anger. "Well, _now_ isn't happening."

Joss took a sip from her coffee cup, blanched, then tossed it in the wastebasket. Her sigh came out as cross between anger and frustration.

"I'll go get you some coffee," Lionel offered as a gesture of good will.

"I don't need coffee, Lionel," Joss contradicted.

Lionel looked closely at his friend's face. "When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep?" he wondered.

Joss shook her head. "A couple of days, I guess."

"So, what about Wonderboy?"

"What about John?"

"How's he taking all of these hours you've been logging?" Lionel asked.

Joss closed the folder. "I don't know. We aren't talking to one another," she admitted.

Lionel appeared stunned by the revelation. "What? What do you mean? Like you've been so busy that you can't pick up the phone and call him? Or you had a helluva fight and he moved out of the bedroom?"

"I'm the one who moved out."

"Whoa! May I ask why?"

"If I answer, will you leave my office?" she returned with an exasperated sigh.

"Depends on whether you tell me what I want to know. So, what happened?"

"He taught Jessica some self-defense moves behind my back," she confessed. Now that she said it out loud, it seemed silly to her ears. But she was stubborn, and she stood behind what she believed in. Right or wrong.

Lionel was taken aback. He blinked twice. "Seriously?!"

"He should have discussed it with me first."

"I was taught more on the playground when I was in kindergarten, Carter. What Jessica learned was -"

"You grew up in a different time. Things are different."

"Pshaw! Different? It's a bad world out there – worse than what we had; she should know something to defend herself."

"I want her to stay innocent for a little while longer. Besides, look what she did to you," Joss countered. "She hurt you."

"And I deserved to be hurt. I came up behind her and startled her. What she did was impressive. And John should be commended for taking the bull by the horns," Lionel argued back.

"She's six!"

"Yeah, well, bad guys don't consider age when they go hunting for a victim." Lionel looked around to make sure the coast was clear before lowering his voice. "Can we talk? Just between us?"

Surprised by the change in Lionel's tone, Joss nodded. "Sure. Everything confidential," she assured him.

"When Lee was eight, he was walking home from school with some of his friends when this car pulled up. The guy inside got out and approached the kids. For some reason he grabbed Lee. The other kids started screaming and running away, but Lee kicked and bit the guy until he let him go. I was home, and I ran outside to see what was happening. Lee broke free and ran away. I wrote down the plate and we caught the guy."

Joss tried to find the right words before replying, "Oh, God, Lionel. I'm sorry. What happened to the perp?"

"He got ten years for attempted kidnapping, plus some other charges."

"But how does this relate to John and Jessica?" Joss asked.

"I taught Lee some moves just in case he ever needed them. I didn't want to, but I felt that it was my responsibility to show him something to take care of himself if I couldn't be there. Cassie felt the same way you do – that I was going to turn him into a bully or some tough kid who wouldn't be able to keep his hands and knowledge to himself."

Joss tried to think of a response, but none came.

"He's here because I took the initiative. And he's never had to use those moves again. Jessica is predispositioned to be just as kick ass as her parents – it's in her DNA. You can't stop nature," he added.

"I don't know..."

"Look, Carter. Wonderboy taught her some moves." Lionel raised and dropped his shoulders. "Big deal. It's not like he took her down to the shooting range. And who knows, it might come in useful – in case she needs it. Which she won't," he added quickly. "Then again, maybe she'll forget what he showed her and go back to her Barbies." He knocked his fist three times on the wood top of the desk to ward off any bad luck.

Joss flicked her eyes upward. "You have a strange way of making me feel better."

"I'm glad." Lionel looked at his watch. "It's getting late, Captain; you should get home to your family. Tomorrow is going to be a long day," he advised. Joss hesitated. "Go kiss and make up with your husband. We need you fresh in the morning so we can catch these guys."

Joss smiled softly. "Thanks." Lionel turned to walk away, but she called him back. "I got a question."

He turned back to face her. "Go ahead."

"Who are you seeing?" she asked.

"W-w-who am I s-seeing?" he stammered and swallowed twice. "W-why do you ask?"

"You didn't bring her to the party, and I was curious."

"She's..." Lionel felt his face turn red as he tried to find the right words to describe the woman who had stolen his heart.

"Is she nice?"

"Yes."

"Beautiful?"

"I think so."

"What does she do?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" he shot back with a nervous laugh.

"Just curious. She must be pretty special if you are with her," Joss complimented with sincerity.

"I-we-she and I." Lionel took a deep, calming breath. "She treats me good."

"I'm glad. You deserve someone who loves you. She's a lucky lady."

Lionel forced a small laugh. "You don't know how right you are. Though I'm sure she knows that without me telling her." The remark was lost on Joss. "I do need to go. Dinner reservations."

"Sure. See you tomorrow Lieutenant."

"Good night Captain."

Standing up, Joss stretched her arms over her head. Lionel had a point, and he made it. Now it was time for her to go home and face the music. She looked at her watch. With any luck, the traffic would be light enough for her to stop at the bakery before she headed home.

Gathering her weapon and pocketbook from the desk, she secured the desk drawer before turning around to turn off the lights. Then she closed and locked the door behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

_I just want to make it clear that I will write my characters the way that I hear them. Maybe you won't like it, and maybe it will piss you off, but this is my story. Yes, Joss will have her bitchy moments, Reese will play the martyr on occasion, and Fusco will be the voice of reason when warranted – it is keeping true to the show. If you believe that you can write it better, there is nothing preventing you from putting your fingers on the keyboard and typing it out. As for reviews...yeah, some can be hurtful and spiteful, but every single one of them will be posted for everyone to see – anonymous and signed. That said, here is the new chapter._

* * *

 **No Easy Way Out**

Joss forked the warmed up lasagne into her mouth and chewed quickly. Two days without a hot meal had nearly done her in. Now nestled in the warm security of her kitchen, she tried to take it slow, but the food was so delicious that she couldn't help herself.

"There is more where that came from," Reese told her as he filled the wine glass.

"It's delicious," she complimented between bites.

"I thought I'd make you something special." He sat down opposite of Joss.

"I wish I could have seen Jessica before she went to bed," Joss said regretfully. Maybe if she had started out an hour earlier she could have avoided the traffic jam on the bridge. But that couldn't be helped, and she would have time to make it up to her daughter later.

"Long day at school. She was pretty tired by the time dinner came around, so I fed her and put her to bed. You can see her in the morning."

"I hope so. Tomorrow is the funeral." Joss set the fork down. "We still don't have any leads. One person thinks they heard an accent from one of the robbers, but they couldn't identify it," she relayed the information.

Reese reached over and covered her hand with his and gave a comforting squeeze. "You'll get them, Joss."

"I hope so." She rubbed her hand wearily across her forehead. "It's frustrating. Does Finch have anything?" she wondered.

"Well, since it wasn't premeditated, the information is sketchy, but he's working on it." He looked at the empty plate. "Do you want any more?"

Joss shook her head. "I'm good. Thank you." She grabbed her wine glass and leaned back as Reese took the plate over to the sink. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.

"Joss, I think we need to talk," Reese announced as he turned off the faucet and put the plate in the dishwasher. Closing the door, he turned it on.

"We do," she confirmed. "I'm sorry for lashing out at you for teaching Jessica self-defense. I was wrong."

"What changed your mind?"

"Lionel."

"Ah. The voice of reason."

"Yeah. He can be pretty insightful when he needs to be," Joss agreed.

"Honestly, it was nothing against you," he apologized. "I thought it wouldn't hurt her to know a couple of things. I should have discussed it with you first."

"It's okay. I was wrong to fly off the handle." Joss swirled the dark liquid around in the glass, then set it on the table. "I don't want to think that with everything we've been through, that our daughter would be in danger."

Reese's eyes softened. "I know." He sat down in the chair.

"HR might be gone, but it's out there. Bad people every where."

"There is."

"And it's our job to make sure that she can protect herself – in case we can't be there. I don't want to think of anything bad happening, but..."

"Your fears are legitimate. But we can't wrap her up in a cocoon for the rest of her life. We have to let her live life."

She nodded in agreement. "I know. I know."

"Nothing is going to happen, Joss," Reese stated firmly. "I promise. You and Jessie and Taylor are my reason for living, and I would lay my life down before I let anything bad happen to any of you."

"I know you would, John." She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand.

"That said...I want your permission to do my own investigation."

Joss gave Reese a dumbfounded look. "What do you mean your own investigation? You want to...help? How?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I can find some evidence the detectives have missed," he reasoned. At least it sounded good to his ears.

"How?"

He look down at his hands before flicking his gaze upward. "I have my ways. Maybe get in touch with some of my old contacts."

"If they are still around. You've been out of the loop for six years," she reminded him. "Contacts move on."

"That's not exactly true, Joss," Reese replied slowly. Joss pulled her hand out from under his as she fixed her eyes on him.

"What are you saying, John? That you've been playing vigilante during your lunch hour?" She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but from the way he shifted in his chair, that doubt was flying out of the window. Her memory tried to recall any perps being kneecapped.

"Not exactly."

"Then what, exactly?" she demanded.

"I've gone out a few times with Shaw," he confessed.

"A few? A few?!" Joss stood up. "You promised!"

Reese looked pained at her outburst. "I know I did. It was just to help. I didn't kneecap anyone," he offered the olive branch.

"Oh, that's comforting. Why did you do it?"

"To help. To feel needed." He slumped his shoulders. "To make the world a safer place for our daughter."

Joss shook her head. "I don't know what to say. I'm a captain in the NYPD; I can't let you do things like this that could jeopardize my job."

Reese stood up. "I'm not, and I won't, Joss."

"You don't know that, John. There are still cops looking for the 'The Man In The Suit'," she told him angrily.

"Except I'm not wearing a suit," he half-joked to help ease the tension.

Joss rolled her eyes. "That's comforting." She buried her face in her hands. "John..." She didn't know where to begin or what to say. She was still wrapping her head around his confession. "Why do you want to do this? Why is this so important to you?" she asked earnestly.

Reese moved so that he was standing in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands. "Because I owe him."

Joss tried to make sense of the words. "You-you _owe_ him? What do you mean?" She tried to make the correlation between the fallen cop and her husband, but came up empty.

"Remember that fateful night the transit cop brought me in to your precinct for starting the fight on the subway?" Reese asked hoarsely.

Joss nodded. "I remember."

"It was him, Joss. He was the cop who arrested me and brought me to you. He is partially responsible for saving me."

"John..."

"Without him I wouldn't have found you, and I wouldn't be here. I owe him to find out who killed him." Reese brushed back a lock of Joss's hair from her cheek. "Let me help. I promise I'll stay under the radar."

"What about Jessica?"

"I already spoke with Grant and Connie, and they wouldn't mind watching Jessie for a couple of days after school," he said.

"You already planned this?"

"I put feelers out just in case," he hedged carefully. "I hoped that you would say yes."

"And what about work? You are the CEO."

"My meeting isn't until Friday; that gives me a couple of days to go underground and see what I can find."

Joss weighed the pros and cons. "I don't know, John," she hedged carefully. "If you get found out or caught, or..." she trailed off. She didn't want to voice her worst fear of all should it come true.

John's smile flashed to try and give her comfort. "Nothing is going to happen, Joss. You're stuck with me, remember?" His arms dropped to wrap around her waist and bring her flush against his hard body.

"You never know what's going to happen," she warned.

"Your captain position is safe; I'm not going to do anything that is going to jeopardize that."

"Okay. And there is one more thing," she continued. "You can teach Jessica some moves. Nothing drastic, though," she added at the last second.

"I would never dream of doing that, Joss. If it's alright with you, I want to teach Taylor, too," he suggested cautiously. Joss looked at him in surprise. "From what he told me, he's been taking some self-defense classes on campus," Reese relayed the information.

Joss weighed the information before relenting. "I guess so."

"Thank you, Joss." He kissed her gently, and the spark that was always between them quickly grew. Moaning low in his throat, he deepened the kiss. Hands searching, tongues tangling, they tried to make up for the two days they had been apart.

Pulling away, Joss tried to catch her breath. "John. John," she panted against the crook of his neck. "Wait. Wait."

"What's wrong?" he wondered as the moment was halted before it could begin.

"We're making love in the kitchen."

Reese took a moment to mull over her remark. "Oh. Well, then..." He picked her up in his arms. "I guess I need to take you somewhere private so I can ravish you." Stepping with purpose, he hurried down the hallway to the master bedroom.

"Ravish away," she laughed softly.

Carrying her inside the room, he used his foot to shut the door behind them.


End file.
